


Ultimatums and Compromises

by Lemin_Gay



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Graphic Description, Homelessness, How Do I Tag, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Ned Leeds Needs a Hug, Oblivious Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Michelle Jones, Running Away, Sick Peter Parker, Suicidal Thoughts, Survival, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Underage Drug Use, Violence, but an ok person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:36:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemin_Gay/pseuds/Lemin_Gay
Summary: After a run in with an old family friend, Peter ends up on the streets. The only one who can save him is himself, but he has to want it.





	1. Chapter 1

"Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep beep." 

Peter felt blindly around his bedside table looking for the source of the incessant beeping pulling him up from a short, but peaceful slumber. "Beep beep beep bee-." 

He slammed his hand down against it, a bit harder than he would have liked, breaking it against the desk. That was the third alarm clock this month and he'd learned his lesson about setting it on his phone the first time around. He rubbed his eyes hazily, clearing away the grogginess of the morning before swinging his legs over the side of his bed. He stretched his arms up over his head, rolling out the soreness of his shoulders from last night's patrol. His aunt's distant, faint swearing permeated their quiet apartment, and it wasn't long before Peter could smell the burning of toast wafting from their tiny kitchenette. After a quick shower to start his day he made his way to the kitchen. 

"Mornin' May. Whatcha makin'?" Peter stumbled lazily into his spot at the table, yawning widely as he took his seat. May wandered her way though the kitchen, looking somberly at the toaster and the plate in her hands. She sat it down gently in front of Peter.

"It was bacon eggs and toast, but it looks like it's just bacon and eggs today." She smiled jokingly, ruffling Peter's wet mop of hair. He waved her hand away playfully.

"May! May stop, you're going to make it frizzy." He huffed, shoveling a fork full of his breakfast into his face. They enjoyed a few quiet moments together before Peter looked at the time on his phone, seeing a barrage of texts from Ned and MJ about his plans for the day. He got up from his spot, running to grab his backpack and a jacket as it was starting to get cold with the start of a new semester "Ah crap May, I'm gonna be late! I gotta go. We're going to Osborn Labs today with the decathlon team!"

"Hey aren't you forgetting something." May crossed her arms, her lips pulled up into a soft affectionate smirk. Peter stopped what he was doing, taking a moment to clear his hurried thoughts, walking up to his aunt to kiss her cheek.

"I larb you May, have a good day at the hospital. I'll be home around seven." May hugged Peter tightly, telling him to be careful and to have fun before he was out the door, trying to catch an inconspicuous train to school.

"I larb you too Peter."

When he got there, late enough to have everyone there waiting on him, but not late enough to make anyone angry about it, he was met with Ned's overenthusiasm. 

"Bro!!!! Osborn Labs?! I'm so excited this is so cool! We're supposedly going to get to meet the actual Norman Osborn."

"Lucky you." Peter ho-hummed, patting his friend's shoulder. He pulled him closer making sure no one else would hear him as he spoke. "This may or may not have been where, you know....the bite happened when I was thirteen. My uncle was good friends with Mr.Osborn. I think they've got some weird genetic testing things going on out there and this is my chance to find out for sure. I hope he doesn't find out I'm on this trip. It would definitely make things... awkward."

"What would? Because as far as I know Pete, everything you do is awkward." MJ cut in, startling the two boys. A group of boys snickered behind her. MJ was a mysterious girl, who would show up quite literally out of nowhere sometimes. She was tall and broody, and seemed to know something, but refused to say anything about it. She always had her eyes on Peter and it made him nervous, but luckily for him MJ wasn't a talker. She listened a lot and spent most of her free time reading or drawing. She didn't have many friends either, seemingly just Ned and Peter which made her a little more comfortable to be around, but Peter always kept his guard up.

"Oh MJ I was just saying that I hoped I didn't run into Norman or his son." Peter answered half honestly. He was getting better at lying, he was still a terrible liar, but if you consealed some of it in truths he found that people were more likely to believe him.

"Oh just like this jackass also has an internship with Tony stark huh?" Flash Thomson walked up, pushing Peter over. He stumbled, quickly catching himself back upright. "Penis Parker back at it again with more blatant lies. First Tony Stark and now Norman Osborn too? Who's next, twerp? The queen of England?"

"Shut up Flash. I don't have to prove anything to you." Peter crossed his arms, as Flash slung and arm over Peter's shoulders, getting really close to his face. "Then why would any of us believe you? You've got nothin' penis. You're a dumbass from a shoebox apartment in Queens. You've had the same shoes for two years and we're supposed to believe that you intern with a billionaire?"

"He doesn't buy me things, Flash, and I'm not the kind of asshole that would mooch off of him for cool stuff either. In fact we barely spend any time together. I see Pepper and Dr.Banner a lot more than I see Mr. Stark." This was the truth. He would often let Banner poke and prod him, and Pepper would usually be the one to debrief him. It was very rare he had one on one lab time with his mentor these days, but he always looked forward to it none the less. "The guy is busy." Peter rubbed his arm as flash grabbed the back of his neck, pushing his head down slightly. 

"You keep telling yourself that, Penis." Flash slapped the back of his head one last time, heading off to get on the bus.

"What an asshole... I believe you Peter. Besides I've seen you know who, so that just makes him an even bigger asshole in my eyes....why don't you ever fight back? You could totally make him pee his pants if you wanted to." Ned nodded his head as he slipped into the window seat on the bus, MJ following to the seat behind them, and Peter sitting in the isle with Ned. 

"It's not that simple, man. I have nothing to prove to him and appearances to keep...and he's just bullied me for so long, it would be weird if I stood up for myself randomly one day." Peter shrugged casually.

"I gotcha... I just would love to see his dumb face get punched for once though." Peter chuckled at his friend shaking his head slightly. Maybe today wont be as bad as he things, but something about it is nagging at him. He shook it off, turning back to MJ who he could have sworn had a hint of a smile on her face saved for him, telling him she believed him too. Whatever it was didn't last very long before she pulled out an earbud and the three got joking away on their short busride out to the Labs.

The facility was impressive. Not Avengers Compound impressive, but really impressive none the less. It was sterile and seemed a lot like a hospital, but more chic and put together. A clear difference in color pallet from the Avengers Compound. Everything seemed much more cold and hostile here. Peter didn't hate it, but it wasn't what he had expected. The tour guide gave everyone their guest passes, passed out on lanyards, but paused at Peter, handing him one that was different from the rest. 

"Norman Osborn would like a word with you at some point today. When the tour is over I'll accompany you there if it's alright with your faculty." Peter swallowed thickly taking his badge and putting it around his neck. This was a nightmare. They were definitely watching him, which means he wouldn't be able to sneak away from the rest of his group. Hope for finding out how he became Spiderman was gone. He was going to have nothing to bring back to Banner. Much to his relief though Flash looked at him slack jawed, from across the lobby, clear jealousy rolling across his face. Peter made a face that was a mixture of worry, and knowing too much for his own good. Things with the Osborn's did not end well. When Ben died they pretty much cut off all ties with the Parker's. Ben was supposed to have taken a job and denied the Osborns of important information to an experiment they had been working on together. The Osborns blamed Ben for his own death, claiming that he wasnt man enough to take his family out of Queens and into a safer neighborhood by taking the job. There was a shouting match between him and May that ended in the split. Peter missed playing with his son, Harry, but all together he resented the Osborns for what they had said about Ben, especially when Peter knew it was his fault his uncle was dead in the first place. Just more salt in the wound. That secret had eaten away at him for longer than he'd like. Ned tapped Peter's shoulder, pulling him out of his funk.

"Hey Pete, you okay?" Peter instantly picked his fake attitude back up, smiling as if nothing were bothering him about the situation.

"Yeah, yeah Ned. I'm good. It's chill." Peter nodded and the group got started on their tour. It wasn't a very big facility and a lot of it was blocked off to the group, so the tour had not lasted very ling before they came to their lunch break. Mr. Harrington came up to the trio's table, when Peter instantly stood up and backed up about two feet. His spider senses set off vaguely about an unseen situation. Something bad was going to happen, but usually this sense only when off to immediate danger. MJ eyed Peter in a way to ask if he was good. He shrugged, confused, but dismissively.

"Peter it has come to my attention that Dr. Norman Osborn would like to speak with you. If you're comfortable with this, I'll allow it since you are eligible for this kind of opportunity. He mentioned a scholarship, and I think it would be beneficial to you to chat with him." The teacher looked excited and encouraging. Peter couldn't shake the feeling of goosebumps littering his arms and back. He nodded. 

"Uh uh yeah sure, M-Mr. Harrington. Sounds great!" Peter said nervously, panicked eyes shifting to Ned, telling him if he wasn't back in a while to assume something went wrong.

Peter followed the tour guide up to an office secluded from the rest of the building.he went inside, leaving just him and Dr.Osborn alone together in the room.

"Peter Parker. Please come sit it's been a while." An older gentleman in a suit sat at a desk in a large, plush chair. Two chairs sat opposite of him. His voice was grainy and had a smooth edge to it. Like he'd smoked cigars for years while charming his way through life. Peter hesitantly came forward. This man radiated danger. Peter was practically shaking with anticipation. He pulled one of the chairs out, sitting slowly. 

"Dr. Osborn, sir." Peter nodded in greeting. The man smiled disingenuously. His eyes read something sinister, but subtle behind a small sense of fondness. It spooked Peter a lot more than he wanted to admit. 

"You have no idea why I called you up here I assume. I think we both know this isn't about the scholarship." The man stood. He was a lot taller than Peter and more broad as well. It was intimidating and made Peter feel small. "We both know you have a Stark internship anyways. You won't be needing anything I may have had to offer you. However. That internship. You see kid... Certain inside sources say that it's not even an internship at all." Peter tensed, and the man's smile grew a bit more genuine. This was definitely dangerous. "But that's not why I called you here today. That doesn't matter to me much. You see Pete. You have something I want. That I'm willing to pay handsomely for if you cooperate."

"And if I don't?" Peter asked quietly, his voice filled with defensiveness. The man just smiled again, this time the venom of a deadly snake clearly in his eyes.

"I don't think you want to do that Peter. This is a good opportunity for your family ...well what's left of it anyways. And besides, Spidey. I think you owe me for everything you have now anyways. Don't think I don't know about our little web slinger breaking out of its tank last time you were here. Your dna is a little special though since we haven't been able to recreate it. Lucky we kept the spiders." Dr. Osborn paused, leaning over Peter with a hand on his desk. Peter was sweating bullets. He had been snitched on and now someone dangerous had his identity. "Ben's work. I know he shared a lot of information with you. You dont get into midtown high without some kind of experience or knowledge. Smart kids aren't just miraculously smart."

"I don't know anything about what you and Ben were working on. All I remember was you and May fighting about it after he died."

"Hmmm. May. How is your aunt Peter? Just as beautiful as I remember? Ben sure did find himself a catch, that's for sure. Would be awful if anything happened to her. She still works at Mercy Bridges Hospital, right?" Dr. Osborn casually leaned against the desk, picking dirt from under his fingernails. He glanced sideways at Peter. 

Peter stood from his spot, grabbing his bookbag. "I don't know what you and Ben were working on, Norman." Peter spit his words viciously. "Honestly. And I hope you never have access to it because you clearly are an evil man. Not the one I looked up to growing up. You know at one point in time I could have sworn you actually cared about my family, but I guess I was wrong. If anything happens to May so help me God.... you'll have it coming to you." Peter turned for the door, stopping again. "Tell Harry I said hi and that I hope he's well." Peter almost made it to the door before a green bat shapped razor landed in the wooden door next to his head. Peter sprinted out, two armed guards going after him, but luckily he was faster than they were. He quickly rounded a corner, pulling his suit from his backpack and slipping it on. He pressed the spider in the middle to tighten it just as he pulled his head backwards, dodging a fist coming at him. Peter grabbed the man's arm, swinging him as hard as he could into the floor below him. He jumped over the man, sprinting through the hall, using his web shooters to propel himself down the hallway. Peter had to get to May. He had to protect her. They knew where she was. He leaped out a window, getting grabbed by a man dressed in a green suit and a terrifying green mask. He was on top of some sort of hoverboard the man had Peter by the collar, his familiar voice cutting through. 

"I know you know something, Pete. Just give me what I want and this will all be over." Peter squirmed, holding tight to the neck of his suit so it didn't choke him.

"I don't know! I was thirteen, Osborn. I was thirteen! I don't know!" Peter struggled, trying to loosen his grip.

"It's a shame kid. A real shame." He dropped Peter to the concrete below with nothing to catch himself on. He landed with a hard thud as the Green Goblin sped off into the direction of queens. Peter jumped to his feet, huffing deeply, to try to catch his breath from the fall. They were a ways out of the city, but not far enough he couldn't see the skyline. The man had a head start and Peter was desperate to catch up. They were gonna hurt May. They were gonna hurt May. They were going to hurt the only person Peter had left.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter jolted up, rubbing his eyes. His roommate throwing a pillow at him hard to wake him up for school. It had been around three month since May had died and he could say without a reasonable doubt that he was NOT settling into his foster home very well. It was always loud and there was no privacy. It smelled weird and was a nightmare for anyone with hightened senses. Children always seemed to be screaming an running around. Peter rarely ever got any sleep, so the few hours he managed would have to do. Most of the people in the system were mean, and would steal from you if you left anything out, and that wasn't including the nightmare of foster parents he had. The Reed's were brutally strict. The rules laid out were often ridiculous, and were impossible not to break. It seemed like they were always looking for something to yell at you about. His roommate Scott was a jackass too. Constantly getting Peter to do things for him, or else. Or else, what did that even mean? He was glad he had some edge of consistency with midtown high though. He had to beg to stay and pay for his own bus and train passes back and forth, but he wanted some foothold in familiarity, and his scholarship paid for most of his tuition so it wasnt too much of an inconvenience. He kept to himself mostly these days, not that he hadn't before, but he wasn't trying to be a spectacle. The vast majority of his peers didn't know about what had happened and he wanted to keep it that way. He just wanted to feel normal somewhere, anywhere really. He got that with Midtown High. Peter got out of bed, throwing the pillow back harder at the roommate. 

"Stop doing that, Scott. Its starting to piss me off. I'm a light sleeper anyways all you have to do is say my name." Peter rolled his eyes, reaching a hand up to fluff his unkempt hair.

"Light sleeper my ass, Peter. God. especially when you're out all night." Peter shot daggers at the other blonde boy. "Where are you always sneaking off to anyways?"

"It isn't any of your buisness, and even if I liked you, I still wouldn't tell you."

"I can make it Mr. Reed's buisness. Then it would be my buisness." Scott smirked, crossing his arms.

"Don't you fucking dare, Scott. I'll tell you later or something. Just not now." Peter pointed a finger, slinging on his backpack. The kid often slept in his clothes, not having much left after he lost May. He didn't really ever care anymore anyways. It's not like he had anyone around him to make sure he was taking care of himself either. He closed the door behind himself, rushing off to school without breakfast. This had become a routine for him. He had to get up earlier since he lived further away from the school than he used to, which didn't leave much room for breakfast and other things if he was out on patrol all night. He boarded the train, pulling out his phone. It was one of the few things he managed to keep that he was supposed to have gotten rid of. He just couldn't bring himself to sell it. It was the newest Stark phone, so he knew he could make a good buck off of it, but it held too much sentimental value in what was kept inside. He unlocked it looking through all the number to find the one he was looking for. He called waiting for the voicemail inbox to pick up. He always listened to his Aunt's pre-recorded message before school. It acted as a bit of a pick me up for the day when he'd have to brave face for his friends.

"Hello? Anderson residence, this is Tanya speaking."

"W-what?" Peter nearly dropped the phone.

"This is Tanya. You called me? Can I help you?"

"I'm I'm I'm I'm- sorry. Hi. My apologies I must have...the wrong number...... Y-yeah." Peter felt his face growing hot as tears streaked his cheeks. "I was just trying to call my aunt. I'll leave you be now, sorry again."

"Oh, uh no worries?"

"Yep, thanks bye." Peter quickly hung up, pulling his knees up to his chest in his seat. He had around six more stops until he had to get off at midtown station, but now he just wanted to go back home. Not to the foster house. But home home. That voicemail was the last thing he had of May. This day couldn't be any worse. He wiped his face, but clearly looked like he had been crying when he unboarded the train, walking out to his highschool. He quietly made his way to his first hour Spanish class, sitting in the back corner near a familiar friendly face. 

Ned leaned over whispering something Peter hadn't paid attention to. He closed his eyes tight, hearing the sound of the chalk screeching against the blackboard. His eyes watered through his squinting lids, his ears felt hot. He wanted out of there just as quickly as he had settled in. Ned tapped his shoulder. He turned to face him, smiling slightly to cover up his discomfort. 

"Hey Peter, you okay? You looked like you were gonna pass out or something."

"Yeah yeah I'm fine Ned, what were you saying?"

"Oh I was just wondering if I could come stay at your place for the weekend. My mom is going out of town on a health retreat or whatever that means."

"No dude, sorry. I cant. I'm uh...grounded."

"Well just ask May. She'll probably be a little more chill if you explain it to her." Peter cringed, shaking his right leg anxiously. 

"I can't dude. I'm sorry."

"Peter what's the deal? We haven't hung out in weeks?!" Ned shout whispered. "I miss you bro." 

"Boys, please stop talking in class." Their Spanish teacher turned around, placing a stern fist on her hip.

"Y-yes, Mrs. Kramer. Sorry." Peter sympathetically glanced sideways at his best friend, pulling his lips together tightly. Ned looked as if he wanted to tell Peter that the conversation wasn't over. 

As time ticked on Peter felt like he could barely make it through class. His grades reflecting it, having taken a swan dive down to just above failing. He didn't have a lot of time, to be fair, and when he did he could barely focus with his current living situation being the way it was. When class was over, Mr.Kramer pulled Peter to the side before letting him leave, a few stragglers still in class, picking up their things and swapping notes.

"Peter we need to talk. I know you lost your aunt a couple of months ago, and I have been very lenient with you, but you're going to fail my class at the rate that you're going. You're being disruptive in class, coming in late almost daily and not paying attention when you're here. If we have to move you away from Ned we can do that to start, but we need to start paying attention in class. I know you're better than this. You were my top student just a few months ago, Peter. I don't like seeing you give up so easily."

"I'm sorry Mrs.Kramer. I am trying, but it's just a lot right now. I don't have a lot of time to study, or the space to, and-and I take the train. I- I'll stop talking to Ned in class, please don't move me." Peter looked way more distressed than the teacher had anticipated. Now that she was looking at him he looked a bit run down, even for a highschool student. His hair was a greasy frizzy mess, he had deep dark circles under his eyes, and he looked a little skinnier than she had remember him looking. All cause for concern, and signs of a major burn out taking place. She couldn't imagine the kind of pressure it all must have been to deal with at once. She gently placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, looking concerned. 

"Peter. If it ever gets to be too much you know you have resources here right? We can set you up with a 504 plan if you can't manage, but I think it would be beneficial for you to just...talk with someone. We have a good counselors here and if you want to you can even look into taking a bereavement leave. You can pick up right where you left off. School isn't everything sometimes."

"Look, Mrs. Kramer.... Midtown High is all I've got left. Ned is all I've got left." Peter shrugged, looking down at the floor, then making eye contact with his teacher as he adjusted his backpack over his shoulders. 

"I just want it to be normal. Exactly the way it's always been. No special treatment. No pity. Its the last place I still feel like Peter Parker. Please don't make it weird." Peter backed out of the classroom catching up with Ned. The school day had started out rather rough, but was going off better than Peter had anticipated. They did a cool experiment in science that Peter actually enjoyed and his history test he had was easier than what he had managed to study for, so things were going pretty smoothly when someone stopped him in the crowded, noisy hallway just before his last hour.

"Peter!" The voice ran closer, it was none other than Flash Thomson. Peter got ready for whatever that asshole was going to say. It was never anything pleasant. "Peter. Good I caught you. I just wanted to say uh ...."

"What is it, Flash? I don't really have time for whatever you're plotting today." Peter bit. Flash looked like he accidentally stepped on a puppy. Peter could feel his heart drop into his stomach.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry....for being such an asshole. Especially recently."

"What the hell is this?" Peter stopped walking, turning his full attention to Flash. 

"Someone is going around saying you lost a family member and I've been...way to hard on you. I'm really sorry, dude. I know how it feels to lose someone close to you and I'm going to leave you alone." Peter froze, swallowing thickly. He just stared forward, feeling like he was under water, unable to see or hear clearly. He was nearly on the brink of a breakdown, his eyes glossing over, but he wasn't crying. He couldn't funtion enough to understand what was happening.

"W-what?"

"Peter, what is he talking about?" Ned laughed and shook his head, like Flash was crazy. He could vaguely hear Flash responding when the dam had broken and fat hot tears rolled silently down his face.

"His Aunt was working in that hospital when that flying green jackass blew it up back in August. I can believe I never put two and two together. It's just so brave of you to be able to get up and come here and deal with me every day after something like that and I'm sorry."

"Shut up." Peter whispered, his voice shaky and raw. He elevated it to a scream when they didn't hear him.

"What?! O-oh Peter. Why didn't I know? What.. I just..."

"Shut up!" The boy was sobbing and shaking, but clearly angry as well. He looked like an absolute mess of swirling, cycling emotions. In all the years of Flash's bullying he had never seen Peter actually cry. Never, not even once. He put his hands up defensively, not knowing what to do. Peters hands shot to his face, covering up his teary, red eyes.

"I'm sorry!"

MJ quickly pulled Peter out of the situation, looping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close to her side. He wasn't sure exactly when she had gotten there, but she had always had a tendency to show up when needed anyways. She took him to the closest girls bathroom, Ned following close after. A few girls screamed at the presence of a couple of boys coming in and left as MJ sat an exhausted, still sobbing Peter on the sink counters. She pulled a bit of paper towel from the dispenser, dabbing at his wet under eyes. She was as solid as ever, cool as a cucumber. Peter envied her in that moment. Ned was pacing back and forth, crying as well. He loved May like another parent since he and Peter were so close for so long so this news had broken him a bit. He didn't have any idea how to handle the situation let alone his own emotions.

"Peter where are you living now?" MJ quietly asked in her monotonous, unchanging voice. 

"Foster home." Peter leaned forward onto her shoulder, worn out and embarrassed. MJ sighed long through her nose, patting the back of Peter's head. She wasn't a very touchy feely person, but knew Peter was. She could put her own personal biases aside for her struggling friend. She rubbed circles into his back with her other hand.

"Are you safe?" She continued. Peter just shrugged. He didn't feel safe there, but he also didn't feel in any immediate danger either. He wasn't comfortable and didn't like or trust anyone there. He didn't really care if he was or not anyways. He'd likely dealt with worse.

"Why didn't you tell us?!" Ned cracked, and MJ whipped her head around fast to tell him it was not the time.

"I don't know... It was my fault. Both times were my fault." Peter whispered into MJ's shirt.

"Peter, you know that's not true." Ned croaked.

"And what am I supposed to do? Believe that?" Peter ran his hand up and down his forearm, rocking slightly as he cried "Both times..BOTH FUCKING TIMES. there was something I could have done. If I had just given him what he wanted. If I would have bartered for time ... Anything other than what I did! She would be here now. He would still be here too. And now she's never fucking coming back and I'm never going to hear her voice again all because I wasn't fast enough. Because Spiderman wasn't good enough. Because Peter Parker is never fucking good enough to be there when it matters. Everyone I love bleeds out onto my hands eventually and it's is ALWAYS my fault. When there is something you can do and you refuse to do it, you're just as responsible."

"What the hell are you talking about Peter? Spiderman? Who-? Do you know who did this?" MJ grabbed him by the shoulders pulling him off of her to look him in the eyes. It was the most expressive Peter had ever seen her. Her eyebrows were stitched together and she was teary eyed, but still as collected and calm as ever.

"Don't act like you didn't know MJ. You always looked like you did."

"I didn't, but apparently Ned did? But you know who did this Peter. Have you told anyone?"

"No one would ever believe me. I'm just some kid caught in the crossfire to anyone that could do anything about it. I know more about New York and how this city works than anyone who's lived here their whole lives. People can be bought. And it doesn't matter anyways. It won't bring May back. I've got nothing left to fight for anyways." Peter shrugged, hopping down from the sink. He pushed MJ away gently, moving past her towards the door. 

Ned stopped Peter, placing his hand on the middle of his chest. "Where are you going Peter?"

"Does it matter? Does anything anymore?" Peter turned his head , wiping his eyes on his sleeve to no avail. Tears continued to spill out over his eyes

"It does Peter. What happened? You can tell us. It matters."

"I'm always cleaning up other people's messes. No ever cleans up mine and i don't ever expect them to. He wanted Ben's work. I didn't have it and didn't know what he was talking about and he didn't believe me so he killed her.....Ya know? I really wish I didn't have it in me to care about people as much as Spiderman does. It's a fucking curse and only gets the people you love hurt... In most cases worse than hurt." Peter took a few long, deep breaths. He wanted to disappear so badly. He wished none of this had ever happened. That he never got the spider bite. That he was oblivious to all of this. He wasn't a kid anymore. Actions had consequences. Love and trust had consequences he could have never prepared for. Life was not some fantasy where you get cool powers and save the day. It was ugly and opened your eyes up to all the corruption and evil that existed in the world, hidden quietly behind a red velvet stage curtain. The idea that anything good ever lasted was all just another act.

"The Parker's are dead. It would just be better if Peter went with them." Peter shoved Ned down, pushing him to the ground as he raced out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Ned and MJ struggled to catch up, ultimately losing track of their friend. Peter ran like his life depended on it. In some ways it did.

 

He exited the school and pulled on his web slingers, pulling himself up higher and higher across the New York skyline. One of the only times he ever really felt free anymore was when he was up here, swinging between glistening pannels of glass underneath a blazing autumn sun. Stark's spiderman had been MIA since the hospital incident, but once in a while Peter just in a hoodie and jeans would just come out of the woodworks to clear his head. He usually only did so after dark, but he was desperate to get away from the noise. It was always quieter up here. When he was content that no one would be able to reach him he relaxed against the gravel roof of a highrise office building. He laid there thinking for what felt like an eternity about how he had gotten there and the events that led up to him being where he was in this current moment. Everthing he'd worked for felt so long gone. There wasn't a point to any of this any more there was nothing he had left to make him Peter. One thing resonated with him over and over again.

"The Parker's are dead. It would just be better if Peter went with them." He sat up on the edge of the building after about two hours of staring at the empty starless sky, looking down across New York. This place didn't need Peter, but it still needed someone to save them. Peter couldn't erase that part of himself that cared about the people too small to be cared about by anyone else. He could erase himself in that moment. You can't care if you're dead. Peter stared straight down at the concrete below, his heart beating fast. It would be so easy, you're not even afraid of heights. Peter pulled himself far back off of the edge. Pulling his knees to his chest to cry again. He felt stuck. There were other ways he could make Peter disappear, he thought to himself. Lots of other ways, we're not doing that.

When Peter had finally calmed down it was late in the afternoon. He decided it would be best to head back to his foster home with a plan hatched in his head. If Peter Parker disappeared, then Spiderman could be full time. Not really Spiderman, but he could fight crime. Still save people. He had a purpose other than just being Peter, and at this point it was the only thing he had a grasp on. He wasn't going to let it go. Giving up wasn't what Spiderman would want him to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter walked through the front door of his foster home, looking like absolute hell from the events of the day. He was instantly bombarded by the noise and smell of the horrid place, easily overwhelmed. It always took him a little to readjust to it when he got home. He always was a bit dazed, but the added stress from the day was pushing him further to the edge than he needed in that moment. Before he could fully grasp what was happening around him within the house, he realized someone was yelling at him, quickly approaching from the kitchen. He turned back to face the noise, squinting his eyes against the yellow lights in the home. He was growing increasingly irritable. Anger, frustration, and just hurt from the last day bubbled wildly beneath his skin along with the input on his senses. He placed his hands over his ears, squinting his eyes completely shut. He drew a few calming breaths in, but couldn't seem to get his heart rate any lower. His anxiety and overall exhaustion pushing him past his breaking point.

"Where the hell have you been, Peter? We've been out looking for you all night. You know we're responsible for you right? If anything happens to you I have to pay for it. You're just a teenager do you really think you should be off by yourself in the dark?" Mr.Reed grabbed Peter's wrist, angry that the boy was covering his ears with his hands and not listening to him. Peters spider senses spiked, causing him to react without much though. Words slipped effortlessly loud out of his mouth. He was running almost completely on autopilot.

"I JUST GOT HERE! CAN YOU LAY OFF FOR LIKE FIVE FUCKING SECONDS?" Peter put his hands on whoever was yelling at him, pushing him down maybe just a bit too hard. The house was suddenly quiet, noticably quiet, except the murmur of Peter's anxiety ridden breathing and a groan from his foster parent on the floor. 

"I didn't ask to be here. I didn't ask for all of my family to end up dead. I didn't ask my Aunt to die. Why the hell do you care where I am? Since when do you care in the first place?" Peter could feel his anger bubbling over, spilling out as hot, ferocious tears on his face. 

"You've never cared about anyone but yourself. You and Mrs.Reed. You don't care when Scott is upstairs beating me up and threatening anyone necessary to get whatever he wants. You don't care when I dont come down for dinner or when you don't see me for days on end. You don't give a shit when I disappear any other time. You don't care about any of us really. So why the FUCK did you have to pick today? Of all days you could have decided to give a shit... It had to be today?"

Peter's voice broke on his last word. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest up into his throat and temples. He stood in the room with all eyes on him and the bewildered man on the ground. Mr.Reed had started to say something, a very concerned, yet still visibly angry look on his face directed at peter. Peter didn't care, he shoved his hands up to stop him.

"I don't want to hear it. I'm going to my room." Peter was always so passive, that it came as a shock to most of the people there. He wasn't the angry type, and hearing him swear was extremely rare, but it was inevitable that he'd eventually break. Most of the kids new to the system eventually did. No one in the room moved a muscle to follow him as he turned on his heels, running up the stairs. He did a once around his room, quickly packing all of his essentials into his bag, which was easy since he pretty much lived out of a dufflebag anyways. Much of what he needed was ready to go. He pause, looking at his Spiderman suit he'd hidden away deep in his bag, brought to the surface by shuffling his things around. He felt a pull in his chest that only made him cry harder and angrier, remembering what putting it on meant to him. He didn't want to miss it, as much as he actually did anyways. He'd made a promise to himself. He'd likely never wear it again. He shoved it deep down into the bottom of the bag, biting hard on the inside of his cheek, wishing he could get rid of the contempt that sat like a warhead, sour in his mouth. 

Scott suddenly burst through the door, pushing Peter down onto his side into the carpeted floor. Peter scuttled underneath him between his feet as quickly as he could, avoiding his grabbing hands at all costs. He stood up behind him, getting knocked in the stomach hard by Scott's elbow. Peter doubled over as Scott turned around , grabbing two handfuls of Peter's hair and kneeing him in the face. Peter stumbled back into his closet, touching his now bleeding nose. His spider senses pulled his head to the left, missing a fist as it made contact with the hard wooden closet door. Scott growled, pressing his knee against Peter's leg to not let him move. Peter's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't afford to panic like he had every other time Scott had threatened him or beat him up. Not now. Now was definitely not the time to panic. Scott grabbed Peter's face in one of his larger hands, getting close to it as he made him face him. Peter closed his eyes, struggling against him to turn his head away.

"Mr.Reed is kicking me out. I'm going back to the boys home because you couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut. I'm going to kill you. I'm going to fucking kill you!" Scott tried punching Peter again, missing him for a second time as Peter gathered enough emotional strength to wriggle out of his grasp. Peter could easily overpower Scott, he knew this, but a part of him still didn't want anyone to get hurt and the panic settled deep within him had always made him feel so weak. Peter pushed the blond back, knocking him into the bunk bed frame, stunning him long enough to make a break for the window. Scott swore as he wrestled to get back up. He raced after Peter, grabbing him by the backpack, to pull him back inside, already hanging half way out the window.

"Get back here fucker. I'm not done with you!"Scott pulled as hard as he could, but Peter had stuck one hand to the brick wall outside.

"But I AM." Peter turned around, kicking Scott in the chest as he fell out of the second story window. 

Peter landed hard on his back, losing all the air in his lungs. The sprinkling mist of soon to be rain dusted his cheeks as he drew a rough breath in. He'd handled a lot rougher in his time, but it still hurt none the less. He didn't have time to think about it unfortunately. He scrambled to his feet, booking it for the fence that surrounded the backyard of the house. He hopped over it with ease, not bothering to look back as he made his way into the busy suburban street the house resided on. He just needed to get away. He needed to be free from this. He needed to erase the last bits of Peter he had left. The further away from the things that reminded him of himself he got the more free he felt. With each heaving step he ran, and with every exhale from his exhausted, bruised lungs, the less he was Peter. 

When he finally managed to calm down, he was farther than he expected himself to be. He wasn't really paying much attention as he ran. It was aimless and he just needed to feel like he was away. He was in a relatively unfamiliar part of New York, bright neon lights illuminating vague streets masked by ominously dark alleyways and corners. It was late and had been raining, and he had no idea what he was doing, but he knew enough from watching the local homeless people on patrol to know how to at least make a shelter from the rain that was now pounding hard at the cracked grey sidewalks. He rounded a corner into an ally, pushing a dumpster a few feet off the wall, opening the top up to make a makeshift roof against the wall. He crammed himself into his little makeshift space, hugging his knees. The day unloaded on him all at once and he was just frozen. He didn't know what to do or what he was doing or why he was here or how he got here or why any of this ever happen in the first place and he was just emotionally empty. He chalked it up himself to being in survival mode when he remembered the pain in the back of his ribs from landing on his backpack. Peter lifted his shirt, hissing at the purple bruise that had formed. It already looked like it was healing, but slower than he would have liked for it to. He settled back, breathing on his hands to warm himself up. He contemplated calling Stark, but he was sure that would only add insult to injury. The guy had avoided him like the plague since May had died. He wasn't even sure he'd really understand anyways. Peter had absolutely nothing left and a mentor that had well...everything. Peter scoffed. He shouldn't be wasting his time with thoughts like these. Wishful thinking. If Mr.Stark actually cared he would have reached out. Said something.... anything really. But all Peter got was radio silence. It stung, but it was over now. Everything was. Peter was gone. The life that he thought he'd lead was no longer an option. He was going to go to college, MIT, make them both proud, continue to do right by his uncle....but nothing good ever lasts. Everything eventually crumbles and anything he loves finds a way of disappearing, so he was destroying himself. He can't hurt anyone if he just doesn't exist can he? Peter tipped his head forward onto his arms, placing them over his knees. He shivered a little. He was wet and it was getting cold out, but he could figure out what he was going to do tomorrow. For now he was both physically and emotionally exhausted and just wanted to rest. He closed his eyes, tucking his dufflebag under his legs so no one could steal it. Call it paranoid, but Peter had seen crazier things. This was New York City and it was brutal and unforgiving. Nothing he wasn't used to by now. He took a deep breath in and out, slowly letting himself fall into an skittish sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning had been brutal, fall was settling in and Peter's clothes were still rather wet from the previous night before, but he also had an errand to run so comfort wasn't exactly on the top of his priority list until he could complete his current task. Peter did have the warm sun to thank though as he made his way through the streets of New York. He was closer than he'd realized to a place he'd often remembered as home until it was sold... 'Some habits die hard I guess', Peter thought to himself, rounding the corner to the Avengers Tower. He looked at it longingly for a few moments remembering the simpler times in his life when it would just be him and Tony together in the lab working on whatever cool nanotechnology Stark had development, asking Peter for ideas and input and teaching him little things here and there all the while. He hadn't done that in...a long time. Peter dug in his bag, pulling out the suit and folding it carefully before shoving it into his zip up hoodie and starting the climb up the tower. He was exhausted and still pretty battered so it took him a bit longer than his record of thirteen seconds. He sat on the balcony of the abandoned, emptied building, looking at the empty space where Tony would have kept one of his suits along with other things he'd remembered being at the penthouse at the tippy top of the tower. He pulled on his masc and the system alit. Peter started crying almost instantly. It made him feel...so safe. Like a warm hug from his aunt as the cool and calm AI gently approached Peter. 

"Peter?"she asked her voice laced with concern and confusion. Peter hadn't talked to her in months.

"K-karen. Yeah it's Peter. Listen. I need you to listen for a second." Peter pressed his hands to his ears soothingly skirting over the sewing and ribbing of the spider web inlays on the mask.

"Peter, is there something wrong? How can I assist you? Would you like me to send out a distress signal?"

"No...no not yet. I want to leave a message first.... Karen... Karen I want you to know-"

"Yes Peter?"

"I want you to know I love you, okay. You may not get it because you're an AI, but you always felt... More than that..."

"That's really sweet Peter. I suppose I love you too, though you're correct about me being an AI. I'm programmed to feel a lot though and I'm programmed to learn as well. Are you sure you're alright?"

"I just want to leave a message."

"Whenever you're ready Peter." 

When Peter had finished, he told Karen to send out a distress signal, knowing Tony...or whoever would come for him...if anyone would....would find the suit perfectly folded at the tippy top of the old Avengers Tower. Peter didn't stick around long enough to find out, ducking his head down as he hit the ground at the tower's base. He pulled his hood up and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked away from the last thing he'd had. He drew his lips back into a deep pouting frown as the tears welled up in his eyes once again, pushing himself further away from one of the only things that ever made him feel like he'd had a purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super short chapter after such a long hiatus. I've been really busy. I started testosterone and I've been working two jobs and just have been too burnt out and busy to write, but I still have plans for this story here


	5. Chapter 5

Tony looked up from his work, head buried deep in wires and solder, working on a tracking system for Clint's arrows when he'd heard a distinctly familiar blip on coming from on of the screens in his lab. Peter was on patrol. Tony's hands shook suddenly, having to set down his current work to focus on it, make sure eit was real. There were so many times he could have sworn he'd heard it and hadn't in actuality that he was questioning it now. He got up from the desk making the blip bigger my tapping into the air. That was Peter's suit activating alright. "Friday, gimme his vitals. Is he okay? Is he healthy?"

"Other than a fractured rib and some bruising it seems he's okay physically, although... He seems to be in great emotional distress." The smooth Irish accent emanated from the ceiling.

"Bruising? He wasn't fighting in his suit though. We would have known. Where is he?"

"The avengers tower, Boss." Tony swallowed. The kid wasn't on patrol, he was just trying to get away from something. That's where he'd often go to think, or decompress at the end of a patrol. The kid felt safe there.

"Mr. Stark...you have an incoming message and a distress signal has been sent from Peter's currently location." Tony was full of anxiety as he suited up, not wasting any time to try to get to Peter. He was absolutely aching to see him. The foster program Peter had been sent to had pretty much all but told him only immediately family had the ability to contact Peter at the moment and that they'd throw him off the property or call the police if he came again. He had been working tirelessly on getting his paperwork together to try and adopt him or figure out a way to emancipate him... Anything, but having parents that worked for shield made it almost impossible for him to have any records in the first place. He had no visible family history. They were secretive and Peter barely existed.

"Friday. Play the message." Tony pushed his rocket boosters to pull power, weaving between buildings

"M-mr.Stark..." Peter started. It almost made Tony angry with how sad he'd sounded. Peter was the last kid on Earth who deserved to sound that sad. " Mr. Stark I don't know how to tell you this.. but... I..." He was crying. Shaking. Tony was scared for him. What was he going to do? He was on top of Stark tower crying after losing an aunt. Tony's mind was jumping to conclusions. "I can't be Spiderman anymore. Im... I'm leaving my suit here today... Forever... I- I hope you understand that I love him and all that he has done for me... Spiderman that is, but....I can't do it anymore. I haven't been able to find the courage or will to put this suit on for... a while....I'm sorry... I have more I want to say though... I wanted to tell you that...I love you. You were...always... like a dad to me. I know you'd never wanted that. I'm just some techy dork kid from Queens that had nothing but his brain going for him before any of this started. Before I got bit, but you took all of that in stride with my powers and really made me feel at home with you... That's a lot of responsibility to bare from someone who has so much going on in life already...and I understand why... Why we became so distant after M-m-may. I looked for the father I wanted in you and I found it before you were ever ready for that. So thank you for taking me in and teaching me all the things you had and for being there...and for the best gift you could have ever given me. The power to help and the tools I needed to do it... I'm.. I'm going to go now.. I'll be okay. You will too. I don't have anyone left to end up hurting anyways. Thanks Mr.Stark.... alright Karen.. I'm done." Tony hovered for a moment, his eyes full of tears as he looked at the red and blue suit folded neatly on his old balcony. He exited his suit, his eyes puffy and red as he let hot fat tears roll down his face. He kneeled down onto the concrete, tenderly picking up Peter's suit. "Friday..." Tony croaked out, not exactly sure what it was he wanted or what he could do. He just didn't want to feel alone. 

"Yes boss?"

"What do I... What can I do?" She wouldn't have had any protocol for knowing how to handle this. She solemnly spoke.

"I'm sorry boss, I don't know. He left on his own accord. I don't think there's any way to stop him if he wants to go." Tony clutched the suit to his chest, before bleakly climbing back into his armor. 

"Take me home, Fri."

"On it Boss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow two chapters in one day?


	6. Chapter 6

A few months had passed and as winter had started to settle in, so had Peter. He was making a routine for himself that would make him indistinguishable from any of the other people living on the streets of New York. If it weren't for his baby face, which he must admit had gotten him a lot, with a flash of his big brown puppy eyes and a meek voice to follow suit, he was sure he'd be unrecognizable from the happy go lucky boy he'd once been. He'd lie, steal, cheat and without a second glance now if it meant securing a spot to sleep or a solid meal. He was skinnier now as well which was concerning since he hadn't had much to work with in the first place, not wanting to eat his aunt out of house and home with a metabolism as advanced as his, and the cold was starting to get a little brutal, but he managed. He'd found a solid coat at one of those church exchanges and some winter boots a size too big as well, but he was still cold. He warmed his hands, hanging out in one of his go to spots. It was a little abandoned parking garage occupied by a few people he'd met and had taken him in. There was August, Marcus, and Doc. August was older and much taller than Peter, but had been out in the streets a lot longer. She was kicked out of her house at 14 for being gay and had essentially said fuck the system, making things work for herself as best as she could with her own resources and ingenuity. She was nineteen now and had Peter's back like an older sister. It was possible she was making assumptions since Peter had said he'd had a secret he had to hide from his family and that it ended up ruining everything. She wasn't far off the mark anyways, but that was a whole nother conversation Peter was probably never going to have with anyone that mattered. Marcus was around Peter's age at seventeen, but was a lot more...troubled. He had a short temper and a drug problem and would often pressure Peter into doing things, usually drugs, he didn't want to do for small rewards like whatever money he'd found that day, a trip to the convenience store, that he'd start a fire since Peter didn't know how. Marcus was an asshole, but just a kid all the same, scared and un the same boat as Peter. Marcus was a bit of a mystery though. He would kill you if you said that to him... That he was a kid. He hated the fact he still was. Then there was Doc. Doc was.... interesting. He was an older guy, had been doing this probably for longer than any of them were alive for. Peter guessed Vietnam vet. Field medic. He'd been around vets before. He'd been around Bucky and Cap before... He'd been around most of the avengers before. He knew the signs. The vacant stares that quickly disolved into 'dont worry about it' smiles, the shifting in his sleep, the way he didn't care about taking care of himself more than not feeling anything at all. Peter related to him more than the others in his own right as well. The four of them were all sitting around the fire when it had finally happened for the first time. Peter was just relaxing, trying to warm himself up when he'd looked at his hands they seemed..weird... Detached. Like they weren't real or didn't belong to himself. He suddenly wasn't in the parking garage anymore, but in a pile of rubble, digging desperately. His hands were shaking and bloodied from the abrasive materials underneath them. He huffed, drawing in a breath that was a lot shakier before it slowly turned into himself hyperventilating. He kept digging.

From an outside perspective it was just like any other day, just hanging out in each other's company. August loved people. She loved hearing people's stories, and as a charming young woman coming up in an unkind world, she never wanted to lose that aspect of herself. She was glad to have met such a ragtag posse of stragglers. She was the one who'd originally found Peter, bringing him back to their little group. He was defensive and scared, coming across one of their campsites as she got back from foraging. He'd thought it had been abandoned and was quick to gather up his things in a panicked frenzy to leave, apologizing profusely. She stopped him, asking how old he was. He'd bit back seemingly from nowhere.

"That's none of your fucking business." August got the impression that this kid didn't swear a whole lot. He seemed kind of clean honestly. Probably new to the streets.

"I'm just trying to help. You don't have to go just yet. Why don't we just relax for a moment.... I'm August. This is my camp, and you're more than welcome to stay for a bit. I don't mind really." She could read the intense debate going on between the crease of his brows. He was hesitant and tense, like he didn't trust her or anything she had to say in the slightest. She didn't blame him. He needed a final shove, some incentive. "I have Little Debbie's." She said holding up a plastic shopping bag. Peter succumbed.

She giggled at the memory, looking over the fire at Peter who seemed to be enamored by his red fingerless gloves. Something was wrong with his expression though. His eyes were glossy and empty and she was pretty sure he couldn't breath now that she was really looking at him. It was like a punch to the gut realizing what was happening to him. She stood, commanding Marcus and Doc to shut up.

"Shh guys. Look. Something is wrong with Peter." She rounded the barrel they'd set the fire in, crouching in front of a totally emotionally vacant, hyperventilating Peter. 

"Peter?" His breath caught in his throat. She sounded distant under the rubble but he could hear her. He could save her.

"M-may?" He whispered as tears fell down his cheeks. He couldn't pull his eyes away from his hands. August turned back to Doc and Marcus, giving them a confused look. Peter had t been one to share. He was aloof and secretive. Never made himself vulnerable. Emotionally or physically. It's like this kid honestly had real fighting tactics, never letting anyone behind him, being unreasonably observant, knowing when people were nearby before he could even see them.

"Who is May, Peter?" That wasn't May. Peter was crushed it wasn't May. His tears quickly turned into sobs that seemed to rack his whole body. He was violently shaking now. August didn't know what to do. She placed a hand on his back to steady him as she tucked a long lock of blonde hair behind her freckled ear. 

"Peter? Can you talk to us? Where are you?" Doc finally stepped forward with his cane, using it to get a knee down on the ground in front if him. He was a geezer that was for sure, couldn't move like he used to, not since the war anyways. He grabbed Peter's wrist gently, trying to ground him a little. They weren't close, close enough to watch each other's backs, but distant enough that they knew nothing about each other. 

"M-m-mercy Bridges?" What was left of it anyways. It was one of the worst attacks on a hospital anyone had ever seen. One press of a button and half if it was gone along with everyone inside. Peter kept digging.

"That hospital that the goblin blew up last summer?" August asked softly. Peter nodded. 

"I can't find May. I CANT FIND MAY." Peter was panicking now, leaning forward palming at the concrete beneath him, like a toddler looking for a dropped lego. Doc grabbed his shoulders, steadying him again. He was totally gone, Doc thought to himself, looking at the kids face. He was responding to things that weren't there, looking right through things that were. He knew what this was.

"Peter." August approached carefully. "...no one injured in the explosion survived." Peter stopped digging. The seering pain that had settled in his chest quickly turned into bubbling hot anger and deep embarrassment as his world came back into focus. He was tired, hungry, cold and just wanted his aunt. He punched the ground once as hard as he could, effectively breaking his hand and cracking a chunk off of the concrete floor. Doc and August backed off for a second as Peter cradled his arm.

"What the hell are you?" She asked, half scared, half curious, keeping her distance. Peter rocked back and fourth, protecting his hand as he sobbed. 

"No one. Nothing. It doesn't matter. Not anymore." Peter spoked between sobs. August hesitated. This was Peter. He was a sweet, but extremely sullen kid. He was always doing things for others and had never hurt any if them, and she knew he never would. He wasn't a monster....was he? She hesitated again, effectively moving this time to wrap her lanky arms around him. 

"You don't have to tell us what happened or where you went, but just know we're here for you, Pete." Peter clutched a good arm around her knit sweater. 

"P-please don't call me that." Peter asked gently. She pulled him off of her, using her sleeve to wipe under his eyes.

"Okay I promise I won't. But I think you have some things you need to tell us. And before you try to cut me off, I know you think you can't, but we've got all the time in the world and nowhere to go, so there's really no point in not telling us." Peter pulled his coat around himself tighter, absolutely exhausted. August sat next to him, pulling his head into her lap to play with his hair. It was dirty, and needed a cut badly, but he did what he could, washing it in whatever sink was available. He never let it get too bad. He couldn't stand it when his curls were looking weighed down and dirty. Peter released some of his tension. 

"Fine but you'll want ride of me afterwards either way."

"So... Are you like.... One of them? A super? I know there's a good few hanging around the area."

"Something like that. I was...I can't really use any or my powers anymore."

"What happened?" August asked as Marcus helped Doc back into his seat, stoking the fire to keep them all warm

"I'm tired." Peter swallowed thickly. "I don't have the energy for it anymore. I'm too hungry all the time and don't sleep enough. I used to have super healing too, but that...shut off a long time ago. My metabolism hasn't changed, Peter laughed dryly."

"So you're pretty much just starving all the time?" August shook her head.

"Always have been. When things...shifted... my uncle died and it was my fault... I didn't want to be a burden on my aunt, physically or monetarily. I stayed out of the way and kept my secret... Then I got this... internship and things changed for a while, but everyone ends up hurt eventually. My aunt was in that hospital. I didn't get there in time, I spent hours looking for her but found nothing. They told me all they managed to find was her left hand... I still have her and Ben's wedding ring... I couldn't let myself stop looking. I was there for days even after they told me."

"You're Spiderman." August made the connection. 

"I was. Not anymore." Marcus crossed his arms.

"Yeah fucking right. Are you kidding me with this shit August? You can't be serious. This is Peter we're talking about. He's barely sixteen." Peter sighed, pinching his brow between his fingers. "I'd show you if I could, but I returned the suit to Mr.Stark."

"He's been a shut in for the last six months. It's super weird to not see his face plastered everywhere. He hasn't made any press statements about it or Spiderman since the hospital incident. He took it personally. It would make sense Marcus." August shrugged, automatically siding with Peter on it. "I believe him."

"You always see the best in people August. It's going to fuck you over one of these days."

"Yeah maybe, but Peter wouldn't lie to us, would you?" She looked down as he sat up, shaking his head.

"It's like you said. I have no point to not tell you. What do I gain from claiming that? I'm still here, trying to run from the things that haunt me... Just like you." Marcus glared at Peter with a fiery disposition. 

"You are different from us... You're a fucking freak of nature...." Marcus spoke under his breath, rolling his eyes at Peter ad he adjusted back into the folding chair he had sat on. Peter nodded subtly, a gesture no one was supposed to see, but made August glare at Marcus even more intensely than he had at Peter. Marcus was troubled, but not all bad so of course he'd felt guilty, but he wasn't about to take back what he'd said either.

"I think I need to go for a walk... Clear my head a little." Peter stood, August not letting him go until she was sure he was stable.

"Be safe, Peter. Please come back before dark." Peter shrugged, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulders. August's face drooped. He didn't plan on coming back. Peter smiled and left, not looking over his shoulder.

August punched Marcus's arm as hard as she could. "Ow! What the f-"

"Look at what you fucking did! His hand is broken. Are we going to stop him?"Marcus looked away from her in contempt. Things were safer when he'd kept his circle small. He knew that. It was one less person to take care of.

"Doc?"August turned to face him as well, arms crossed.

"Marcus did no one ever tell you about a woman scorned. I'm with her. That kid isn't going to last out there on his own." August broke off into a Sprint to the exit, finding that Peter was long gone. "DAMN IT. He's fast." She sighed angrily, turning to go back to the group. 

"We're going to have to split up and find him. And to hell with you and what we have if you don't fucking help Marcus."


	7. Chapter 7

And so the search began. He couldn't have gotten far. That August was convinced of. For one she couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten something and would be surprised as hell if he could manage to get a fair ways away before giving in to the lack of energy she knew he'd been siphoning from the last few days. Now that she knew his metabolism was wack as hell too, she had even more motive to worry. She sent Marcus south towards Brooklyn and had Doc stay just in case she came back while she made her way north towards Manhattan. She looked everywhere, panic settling in her gut as she checked every alleyway and corner she could. Peter was unpredictable, and as she'd said before...quite sullen. Depressed. Peter wasn't the kind of boy who seemed to value much in ways of taking care of himself. He didn't care if he lived or died. He lived recklessly, doing whatever anyone told him to. August felt like an honest to goodness older sibling around the much younger boy. "C'mon Peter." She'd whisper to herself, hoping he'd be around the next corner and the next, but Peter was up...higher.. He rarely had the energy to scale buildings, but today he needed to cry. To cry alone and unfiltered. Not motivated to keep quiet by the peer pressure of those hardened by the streets. A sob tore through him as he pressed a broken bone on his hand. He'd forgotten how much that hurt, but it was usually long healed by now. "I don't know what you want me to do. I used to ask myself every day what Spiderman would do, and now I don't know what you want me to do." Peter knew he was talking to himself, but he wished desperately someone buried deep inside of him would say something comforting, but he was met with radio silence. He touched his hand again, a sick morbid curiosity making him wonder if it was still broken. He nodded to himself, hissing through his teeth. "Yeah still broken."

"You should probably come get that looked at." A woman's voice cut through. Peter jumped, not having sensed her presence in the slightest, just another power he was losing to add to the growing list.

"You know I can't do that Nat." She bit the inside of her cheek, pulling her bag off of her shoulders, her wig tucked into a hat and sunglasses that covered most of her face. She must have been trailing him in civilian clothing. She took a few steps forward and Peter inched himself away accordingly. He didn't exactly have the energy to fight The Black Widow at the moment if she was going to drag him away.

"I get it. I get it." She held her hands up defensively, going back to triffling through her bag. "Here at least eat something then." She handed him a granola bar and settled into the gravel top of the building not far from where Peter was sitting. 

"I just want to talk."

"Yeah everyone usually wants something. What the fuck do you actually want?" Peter said condescendingly, opening the bar and ripping in tenderly, savoring each bite like it was his last meal. It could be, he thought to himself, totally could be.

"Okay ouch." Nat huffed under her breath. "Listen Peter. People still need you and love you. You can just disappear like this."

"Watch me.... And if you can't, then bite me." Peter sassed. He was being rude, but he knew his motivations we're honest and came from a good place. He didn't want to hurt anyone else. He didn't want to fall victim to his own inability to back down.. or let go. Seeing Nat hurt him, a lot....so maybe he had every reason to be rude.

"He hasn't left his lab in weeks. I'm concerned...and I'm even more concerned about you. I know you're not eating enough." Nat placed a hand on his shoulder, only to have it shoved off.

"I'm eating just fine. I don't need help, Nat. I just want to be left alone. I just want you guys to forget about me. You guys didn't have any problems with it when may died... And any potential I may have had died along with May anyways so.... Give up. Give it a rest already..I'm not the one that can't let go." Peter stood, pocketing the rest of the bar for later.

"Peter we're not going to stand by and watch you kill yourself. What about your friends? Huh?"

"They'll be fine. They've been out here a lot longer than I have."

"I'm not talking about them Peter. Your other friends. They haven't stopped looking for you since the day you disappeared. I can barely keep track of you... I cant keep track at all and I'm literally trained in covert operations like tailing people who don't want to be seen. You practically don't exist on file anywhere. When you disappeared it was like you died... Neither of them have stopped looking. Every day after school... Need Leeds and Michelle Jones take posters of your dorky little face and paste them all over queens. They go to events handing out fliers. They walk dogs to save money for when you decide to come back. They haven't even gotten a hint that you're alive and refuse to give up, but look at you. Have you?"

"I can't come back. I don't want them to end up like May or Ben.. I don't want any of you to end up like May or Ben. I feel like a fucking... Freak. It's all my fault. If I were normal none of this would have happened. I hope one of these days you all realize what I did was out of love because I would rather suffer endlessly and die than have it be my fault again. I'm done trying to make it work. Im done, Nat. I'm not that naive little kid anymore. There's only pain for those that stop at nothing to help. One of these days you're not going to be good enough to save somebody that you love. It's an inevitability. Life and death don't make compromises. Let it go." Peter turned around, grabbing his bag again. Nat grabbed his arm before letting him leave. 

"No. I'm not going to and you know damn well that the rest of us won't either. When that compromise you so desperately want to deny does come and decides to kick you in the ass, we'll be there, alright Pete? You know where to find us and you'll always have the avengers. Even if you denounce it." Peter looked at Nat. Just looked at her with no emotion behind it. She hated how he looked. It made her heart do things she swore she'd never feel.a maternal instinct of sorts. She let go and watched Peter descend the building with a struggle to stay grippy, losing his footing once or twice. If they weren't ten stories up she'd help. She took the stairs herself, looking back as the kid headed the opposite direction. At least Stark would be happy to know he was alive, although much more cynical and cold than she'd remembered him being. The look was haunting her. He was pale and gaunt. His skin was wind blistered and dry and he looked like he hadn't had a full night's rest or an actual meal in eons. He looked far older and so so young all the same time. It took her forever just to find him and now that he knew he was being followed she knew he'd figure out how not to be. It made her nervous. How far was this kid willing to push himself away from help?


	8. Chapter 8

Peter's feet hit the ground with a soft thud at the base of the building. He wiped his hand over his face, pulling out the granola bar and shoving a large chunk into his mouth with a hum. 

"You'lL AlwaYs HaVE tHe AveNGerS. EvEn If yoU deNOuNCE iT." He whisper mocked to himself sassily. He chewed on the bits of granola, feeling his hand throb a little. That should kickstart things healing a little at least, he thought to himself as he started walking away from the building. He made sure Nat wasn't following him, constantly checking over his shoulder in paranoia, when he bumped into someone not looking. She grabbed his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

"Oh my god, Peter. Thank holy hell. You freaked me out there." Peter let his arms dangle, dropping the granola bar in surprise. Well fuck. He pushed August off of himself after a second or two of processing what was happening. 

"I told you I was just going for a walk."

"Don't you dare lie to me like that Peter. We all know what it means when you grab your bag like that." Peter avoided making eye contact with her, turning his face away, looking into the glass of the building next to him at his reflection. Maybe Nat did have a point about him not eating enough. But it's not like he could fix it. Peter took a deep breath in through his nose, gritting his teeth absently. He didn't exactly have a comeback for this one. He was planning on running. But just like usual nothing ever seems to work out now does it. He just swallows back his contempt and pride. 

"Yeah.. yeah you're right. I'm just....scared I guess."

"What are you afraid of? Tell me. I just...want to understand better."She gripped his shoulder, looking at his face studiously. He bit the inside of his cheek, twirling his mouth up into the corner .

"Fucking awful things always happen to good people. You... You're a good person and live out here after your family did what they did to you. Doc fought for our country and now he can't even get enough money to take basic care of himself on a regular basis. Marcus....Marcus is just...fucking Marcus. And I was Spiderman....and now look at us. We're all in the same boat regardless of the reason. No mater how much I fucking tried to do some good I still ended up here. I'm done trying. I don't understand how you can look at all of that and find the good in it the way you do. I'm a freak. Marcus said it himself. I'm a lost freak with no compass in a world that's as hard to navigate as a maze... And I feel completely blind in it. I lost everything and everyone important to me because I tried to help and I'm just thinking maybe it would be better if I were dead or alone so that way none of you end up that way yourselves. Look..." Peter took August's hand into his own, looking at her face. "You all have your little thing going. You don't need me there and you shouldn't want me there. I'm nothing but a liability to you guys. I'm dangerous and you're bound to get hurt and maybe....maybe I'm just...afraid of what will happen if I let myself get too attached. Nothing good ever happens to the people I love, August."

August stood in silence, looking at Peter back, squeezing his hands gently. He looked stern and unforgiving, but she knew deep down he was just a scared kid who wanted to connect with someone. Anyone. Just to feel normal again. She squeezed his hands a little tighter. "Your hand isn't broken anymore." She paused, thinking on it. "If that can heal, then forgive me for thinking that anything is possible, and that you can heal from this too. We all can. I believe we all can. I don't know what exactly happened to put you where you are now, Peter, and I don't care if you think you're not wanted around, but I'm not going to let you do it alone." August pulled Peter in for a tight hug. "I believe deep in my soul that you would never do anything to hurt anyone that didn't deserve it. You know they say Spiderman never killed a single bad guy he took down. I don't think that was Spiderman.. I think that was one hundred percent you, Peter." August sniffled a little, tightening her hug. "You're hurt and you're allowed to be hurt. We are where we are because the world is an awful place, but we still look for the good in eachother because of all the darkness that surrounds us and I see so much of both in you and I know how hard you're struggling to find the meaning of it all. But it's there. There is meaning in all of this, Peter. Please don't give up. Don't lay down and die alone in a city that will eat you alive." Peter clenched his jaw, slowly lifting his hands to place on August's back. Peter wined a little , pocketing his face into August's shoulder. 

"I want to go home."

"I know. I do to. I know. But you can come back with me and we can try to make one with Doc and Marcus. At least until we all get this sorted out." Peter hugged August back tightly. 

"O-okay. Okay." He lifted his head back up, taking a step back and wiping under his eyes. 

"We may not have a lot Peter, but we've got eachother. I hope you can figure that lesson out for yourself before it's too late. I've seen this city destroy so really good people. I would hate for the same to happen to you." August took Peter's face in her hands, kissing his cheek lightly and maternally, thumbing away a few tears before pressing his nose with her index finger. "Let's go back and see if we can't feed you a little."

"I just ate. An old friend gave me a granola bar on my walk."

"Well regardless I still want to feed you. And Marcus should be heading back since it's getting dark anyways. I'm pretty hungry myself." She took Peter's hand, and started walking towards the camp, felling him stay in place for a second before her arm went slack. She smiled to herself. There was hope for Peter yet, she decided.


End file.
